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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603531">Obscured</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeliaRavenclaw/pseuds/CeliaRavenclaw'>CeliaRavenclaw</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Hermione Granger, Auror Partners, Aurors, Care of Magical Creatures, Community: Dramione FanFiction Forum, Dark Magic, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (Harry Potter), Erotica, F/M, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Intimacy, Love/Hate, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Mystery, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 22:22:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeliaRavenclaw/pseuds/CeliaRavenclaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fresh to the department of Magical Law Enforcement, Draco Malfoy is forceably teamed up with notorious rule follower, Hermione Granger. Mysterious happenings have taken over Hogwarts and It's up to the two of them to put aside their differences and find the culprit... preferably before someone gets killed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Another day. Just another day. </em>
</p><p>Hermione thought to herself. Another day where she was the first person in the dark and cold office. Even Harry's quarters were dark. She sighed and fell into her chair, wincing as the familiar pain shot through her spine, and pulled out todays paper, both muggle and magic and began perusing.</p><p>It's not like anyone was there to reprimand her after all.</p><p>When a shiver ran through her body, she pulled out her wand and tapped it against the rim of her favourite mug, watching desperately as it filled to the brim with steaming tea. Earl Grey,<em> Mum's favourite. </em></p><p>As bodies began slowly filling the room, Hermione finished reading her paper as she sipped on her tea, then decided she might as well use her extra time to catch up with some old friends. The same ones who sent her letter after letter and had yet to receive a reply. Her excuse to herself was that she was just always far too busy. The truth being that she just never knew what to say to these people. They each had so much going on for them that their letters were always pages long, what did Hermione have to say back?</p><p>
  <em>Nothing. It was just another day.</em>
</p><p>Right, well, she'd just have to get over that. It had been far too long and her friends deserved better than that. She was just being lazy.</p><p>First, Luna. Luna's name had been all over the articles in the<em> Daily Prophet</em>, this having been what spurred her initially. Her letter was short and sweet. She mentioned where she had travelled over her last several cases; all over the country, never anywhere interesting. She told her about a weekend spent at the Potter's and playing with baby James. How big Ginny's bump was getting. Half way through she realised her letter had very little to do with Hermione herself and all to do with everyone else's lives. She scrunched it into a ball, whispered under her breath and let it incinerate itself in front of her. This time, the letter was shorter still, though still not as honest, she couldn't force herself to be that honest, not even with Luna.</p><p>
  <em>With who then?</em>
</p><p>She shook the thought from her head. Instead she wrote of how much she missed seeing all her old friends, apologised for being silent for so long - though she was confident that Harry and Ginny were keeping everyone else up to date on her behalf - and expressed her wish that Luna might come and visit her for a weekend soon. After Luna, she also crafted letters for the three oldest Weasley's, and another just for Hagrid. Hagrid was her favourite person to correspond with. She never struggled to find something to talk about. From her time in the Department of the regulation and control of magical creatures, she and Hagrid had grown closer than they had ever been. She had even been known to grant permits for his new creatures well after he had acquired a new one. She inquired after Buckbeak and Fang and gave him updates on her own pets. Once again fawning over the Bowtruckle she had nursed back to health and then had to Re-home. It had broken her heart to do so, but there weren't many magical creatures that could be kept inside a cosy cottage.</p><p>She sighed audibly, causing the witch at the desk across from her to snap her head up at and glower at Hermione. Ignoring this, she signed and stamp sealed her four letters wandering down to the postal department and handing each to a different owl. When she returned the office was now full, a dull, low hum as desk-buddies whispered to each other. Fat chance of that happening, Hermione noted, taking in the still empty desk facing hers.</p><p>"Oh, good, Hermione." Harry had stuck his head out of his office door. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was it's usual nappy self, though notably not as dark as it had been back at school. He looked unusually unkempt this morning. "I need you in here." Without another word, he disappeared back into his office, leaving the door ajar for her. A feeling of foreboding washed over her and she thought it best to refill that mug of hers before stepping foot into whatever was waiting for her.</p><p>The feeling of dread only intensified when she spied the platinum head of her desk-mate slouching in one of the armchairs in Harry's office. He was silent, not even looking up when she came into the room and sat beside him in her own chair. He merely stared straight ahead, looking through Harry into the fireplace behind him.</p><p>"What's going on?" Hermione asked cautiously.</p><p>"Right." Harry exhaled as he dropped into his own chair. He flipped open the case file in front of him, having to push his spectacles up the bridge of his nose every few seconds as they kept slipping down.</p><p>"I've received word from Hogwarts this morning." He looked up at both of them, reading their reactions. Malfoy stared straight ahead with the same steely indifference as usual, while Hermione gasped, leaning forwards in her seat, urging him to continue, opening her mouth ready with an onslaught of questions. He held up a hand to silence her. She sank back into her seat, noticing with a spark of annoyance, the twitch at the corner of Malfoy's lips.</p><p>"It seems Professor McGonagall has come down with a mysterious ailment and was sent overnight to St. Mungoes for observation. Now i realise on it's own, this would hardly call for our attention, but i've also been told about a number of strange goings on in regards to the creatures on the grounds."</p><p>"So," Malfoy leaned forward now, still looking disinterested. "An old witch is sick and some animals are behaving weird, is what you're telling us?" Hermione glowered at him, itching to wipe that smug look off his face. This was their old professor they were talking about, how could he not care.</p><p>"It's a bit more than that, Malfoy." Harry said, rather diplomatically. "A number of the creatures had been falling ill with mysterious ailments for weeks now. Apparently no one thought much of it," he stopped himself there. "Well, except for Hagrid, of course." Hermione smiled. "When McGonagall fell ill it appeared out of nowhere, now there are whispers of foul play. Apparently some think that whatever or whoever got to the animals first then somehow made it's way to her." With that he leaned back into his chair, clasping his hands together. Hermione and Malfoy shared a look.</p><p>"That's it?" Malfoy asked at the same time Hermione spoke, "Do we know anything more about Professor McGonagall, or even the creatures?" Harry brows furrowed together, he didn't like having to admit that he had virtually no information and was potentially sending out two of his best auras on a wild goose chase.</p><p>"I know it's not a lot to go on --"</p><p>"No, it's actually nothing to go on." Malfoy interrupted him. Harry gave him a reproachful look and Malfoy looked away, becoming fascinated with the portraits lining the walls. No wonder she had to be here too, neither one of them could behave sensibly around each other.</p><p>"Harry, i hate to say it, but Malfoy has a point," the two looked at her full of surprise, she corrected herself. "Even though he's acting like a git, "Harry smirked at that, even Malfoy seemed almost amused. "Are you absolutely sure it's not just a coincidence? It is flu season after all, perhaps they're all coming down with something." He shook his head.</p><p>"Hagrid is positive that they've been poisoned somehow. According to Neville, he had noticed many of the plants from the greenhouse had been ripped apart after each incident. He suspects whatever is poisoning everyone could be a concoction of his plants." They nodded in unison.</p><p>"That makes sense," Malfoy mused. "Opportunity, they're unguarded -"</p><p>"And they'll grow back if they need to make more." Hermione finished. Harry smiled, looking rather pleased. It was a nice change of pace to not have all of us at each other's throats.</p><p>"Exactly." Harry started. "Hermione, you have an understanding of the Creatures, and Malfoy is the best with alchemy. So, i need you both on this one, i'm partner testing you two together. Perhaps only stubborn can reign in stubborn." He gave a Hermione an affectionate smile, ignoring Malfoy. She read the subtext of his look.</p><p><em>Only </em>I<em> can reign in Malfoy</em>.</p><p>It was like school all over again, except instead of sitting with the two noisy boys, Ron and Harry, she was being forced to sit with the naughty boy, Malfoy. In the hopes of her good behaviour rubbing off on him.</p><p><em>Yeah, bloody likely</em>.</p><p>"Go home and pack your bags. I'll send an owl ahead of you." Harry turned his attention on Malfoy just as he was reaching the door. "And Malfoy, try not to piss anyone off, i'd rather not deal with the paper work." With a smirk over his shoulder, he called out as he left the room.</p><p>"No guarantees, Potter."  Hermione rolled her eyes, it was going to be a long case if he was already starting to behave like this.</p><p> </p><p>..........................................</p><p> </p><p>Not an hour later, a bright green flame engulfed the fireplace in Hermione's cottage and Draco was left standing in the empty space, dusting the powder from his expensive suit, his trunk in hand. He smirked as he stepped into the threshold, quite pleased that he had managed to startle her so easily.</p><p>"Merlin's beard!" She exclaimed, a hand flying up to her chest. When she recovered from her state, she glowered at him. "What are you doing here, Malfoy? We were meant to meet at the school." He shrugged non chalantly, setting his trunk down where he stood and leant back against the fireplace.</p><p>"Didn't exactly feel like enduring Longbottom's small talk on my own while i waited for you." He noted her own trunk that he had interrupted her packing, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. "What in Merlin's name have you been doing all this time? It took me not even a quarter of an hour to get my things in order, and here you are with an empty sodding trunk." She didn't bother turning around to face him and focused her energy on incessantly folding.</p><p><em>I guess now we know what has taken her so long</em>, he thought bitterly to himself.</p><p>With a huff, he surged toward her, wand in hand, ready to get this charade over with. It was as he raised his arm that her own shot and wrapped around his, gripping onto him and making him start. He looked down at her, confused. He searched her round chocolate eyes, looking for answers. When they conveyed nothing he then looked down at the hand holding his arm, and couldn't stop himself from flinching. The sleeve of her cardigan and slid down enough to show the faded but still visible scaring on her left arm. It seemed Granger didn't like being reminded of that time and who she had been anymore than he did. She immediately dropped her hand, and her gaze. She stared ahead, refusing to look at him, her brows knotted together as she tried to regain her composure. When she spoke again, there was no hint of emotion.</p><p>"Not everything needs magic." She whispered, quietly resuming her folding. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but then snapped it shut when he realised there wasn't anything to say. It was rare that anyone got close enough to spy the dead mark on his left forearm, but when they did, Draco knew there wasn't anything they could say to alleviate the flood of memories that over took him. He shook his head, trying to physically shake them away, and thought it best to leave Granger to her own devices. Without a word to her he left the small sitting room and ventured on through her home.</p><p>A realisation hit Draco as he strolled into her cramped living room and took in the abundance of picture frames adorning the stone walls, a person's home is a rather private place, which he knew, but up until this moment he had never bothered to think of Granger as anything more than the annoying little know-it-all she had been in school, or Potter and Weasley's third wheel. Even as they sat across from each other at the ministry, he barely paid her any mind. Always swatting away at a new book, forever typing away, she was always there before he entered the office and he imagined she stayed behind long after everyone else, some days he thought she may have just lived there, when he returned to the ministry and requested that Potter send him to Granger's house he was almost surprised that she had one. He wondered how much else he may have been missing about her. He breathed a short laugh to himself, only Granger could have two floor to ceiling bookcases and still have piles of books stacked neatly in the corners of the room, he supposed not that much had changed. He couldn't stop himself from leaning into some of the photos, after all, it wasn't every day that one was allowed a glimpse into the private domain of one Hermione Granger.</p><p>He noted multiple photos of Granger in and out of her Hogwarts robes stood next to two older people, he assumed her muggles. Of course saintly Potter and his dopey weasel friend made recurring appearances. One appeared to be his wedding to the lady weasel, another of Granger holding a chubby infant, with a mess of jet black hair. <em>Must be Potter's brat</em>, he thought. His eyes were then drawn to an ornate, dark wooden frame, taking centre atop the fireplace he had stepped out of. He was taken aback by the number of people in the photo, he hadn't known Granger to have that many friends, though he guessed that the gingers took up about half of them. As he investigated further he saw the faces of those that had died nearly a decade before, he couldn't remember half their names - none of them were Slytherins - but he knew he recognised them.</p><p>"Dumbledore's Army." Granger whispered from behind him, her cool breath on the back of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. She continued on, her eyes not focusing on anything in front of her, he suspected whatever she was seeing, it was something from the past. "Well, it was his second army, the first was Harry and Neville's parents, Professor Lupin, Sirius..." She trailed off, she reached for the photograph, caressing a hand over the faces. "Of course we had no idea what we were doing, but we were so desperate to be grown up and help fight a war. Those of us that are left wish we could go back to being teenagers and complaining about homework and O.W.L.s, at least i do anyway." Tears had sprung from her eyes and started streaming silently down her face, without thinking, Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders and spun her into him, crushing her against his chest. His stomach tightened when she hugged him back.</p><p>"You never complained about homework and exams." He whispered into her soft curls. He felt her shake against him, tears turning to small bitter laughter. When she pulled away, neither could look at the other. She wiped at her face then stopped when her eyes caught his suit.</p><p>"I'm so sorry." She stammered, reaching out for his shirt. He waved off her efforts. "I've ruined your nice shirt by crying all over it."</p><p>"It's okay." Was all he said, because he still couldn't say what he had needed to say for all these years, <em>thank you.</em></p><p>She cleared her throat as her cheeks grew pink and mumbled something about getting the rest of her things. When she returned she had a bird cage with a grey and white spotted owl, cooing to itself and two small cat trailing behind her.</p><p>"What is this, Granger?" He eyed the animals suspiciously. Though he noted that her mood had already lifted.</p><p>"I normally call someone to care for them when i have to go away, except for Arthur here, he comes with me everywhere. But i figured since we'd be at the school, what better place to bring them? Hagrid will love them." He watched in disbelief as she picked up the smaller cat, black and grey fur, elongated fluffy ears and the tail of a lion. He started.</p><p>"Is that a Kneazle?" She nodded with an impressed smile.</p><p>"Isn't he adorable? He was a present from Hagrid last Christmas, he won him in a bet from some breeder. He's the best guard dog there is, besides the three headed kind of course." She chirped on. Draco's head tilted to the side, what on Earth was she on about, three headed dogs? "His name is Knightshade," she said indicating the Kneazle kitten she had plopped it into her small shoulder bag. He sat in there, quite comfortably, with his head poking out the top. The other one, a larger, champagne coloured thing, which he presumed to be a normal cat, wrapped around her legs, audibly purring.</p><p>She snatched up her trunk, thrust the bird cage into Draco's unwilling arms and waltzed into the fire place, calling the cat, Poppy, to her. Draco watched as the cat obliged and trotted after her, pouncing into her free arm where it curled up in the crook of her elbow.</p><p>"Well, are you coming or not?" Granger demanded, tapping her foot impatiently. Draco growled to himself as he grabbed up his own trunk and followed after her. Making sure to hold that damn bird as far from his suit as possible while she threw the powder at their feet and waited for the green flames to overtake them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm still not sure how i feel about the POV jumps within chapters. If it's too jarring or maybe better to separate by chapter?<br/>I'd appreciate any notes :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neville had been waiting for them in the headmistress' office, a steaming mug in hand and a five o'clock shadow forming along his jaw despite it barely being past two in the afternoon. It looked as if he hadn't slept a wink all night, he probably hadn't. His clothes were crumpled, his tie pulled loose and there were deep purple bags set under his eyes. It had had Hermione troubled, this couldn't be the result of one restless night. She was not unaccustomed to an all nighter in her days as a Hogwart's student, reading furiously by witch light. she had lived for months on end in the wilderness for Merlin's sake, they had lived through a war that had aged and scarred them well beyond their years, and still she knew she had never looked as dishevelled.</p><p>Even Malfoy had appeared appropriately perturbed, though she was already beginning to question his hardened constitution. Her thoughts rushed back to her living room where he had wrapped his slender arms around her and squeezed her against him. Her chest swelled with emotion at the thought and she shook the memory away. No, this may have been Malfoy, but surely even he was allowed a softened moment or two. She often suspected he still felt something resembling guilt, and masochist that he was, forced himself to work alongside the people that perpetuated this feeling on a daily basis. How else could she explain the resentment he harboured for them all, while continuing to show up at the office day after day.</p><p>"Granger!" She was snapped out of her reverie to find Malfoy snapping his fingers impatiently in her face.</p><p>She blushed as she felt the gazes of multiple students sat near them. She vaguely heard Malfoy dismissing their attention with that air of authority he held in his voice, while she tried to collect herself.</p><p>"Right, are you about done dreaming now then? Because I'd quite like to get the job done sooner rather than later so we can leave this horrid place and get back to our actual lives." He greedily shovelled the gravy soaked roast potato into his mouth, his attention falling back to the small black leather notebook he carried around with him. She dropped the dinner roll she had been picking at onto her plate and tried peering over the centrepiece of food between them. She noted his jaw clench and release several times before he muttered without looking up from his work, "No one likes a snoop, Granger."</p><p><em>Fine. </em>She thought, lifting the pumpkin juice to her lips and pouring her attention back to the scroll in front of her. Neville's rough list of plants and creatures to investigate was long, and she was already glad of having brought her beloved pets, she had a feeling that this wasn't going to be an open and shut case.</p><p><em>There had to be something here.</em>  Her bottom lip was feeling raw as she chewed on it absent-mindedly, desperately searching for something within the list.</p><p>"You cannot simply <em>will</em> a clue into being." Malfoy muttered. When Hermione looked up, she was shocked to find the Great Hall almost empty. But, surely she had only been studying the scroll for a few minutes. Malfoy was now flipping leisurely through his book, '<em>Wanderings with Werewolves</em>', barely paying her any mind. How could he do that? How could he just switch his mind off like that?</p><p>"Well, we might have better luck finding something if you actually helped at all." His brow quirked at her response, when he grey eyes met hers, they seemed almost amused. He held her a gaze for a silent moment, before folding down the corner of his page, making Hermione cringe internally, closing the book and shifting his body to face hers.</p><p>"Does this mean you're finally willing to admit defeat and share the scroll with me?" Her mouth was open and ready to retort before he finished his sentence, but she stopped. Leaning back on the bench and knotting her brows into a 'V'. She handed the scroll over, unable to look Malfoy in the eyes as his bony fingers slid over hers.</p><p>"I can't find a pattern anywhere, no potion that i know of using those all of those ingredients." When Malfoy didn't acknowledge her, she continued rambling. "Of course, i intend to peruse the library, tomorrow perhaps, we can talk to the potions professor. But not even Neville seemed to have an inkling..." She trailed off, losing herself in her thoughts.</p><p>"Yes, well, Longbottom has always been a beat and a half behind everyone else so I hardly believe that means much." He put the scroll down, his brows furrowing, and took a long, deep breath. Letting it out in a loud sigh. Then his brow arched.</p><p>"You're right, Granger. There is no discernible pattern here." She scrutinised his face, he would never agree with her, not even over the colour of the sky, purely out of principle.</p><p>"What's the catch?"</p><p>"What if the lack of pattern <em>is</em> the pattern?" His grey eyes seemed to sparkle with animation.</p><p>"What, you think whoever is doing this is purposefully taking plants they don't need to sabotage us?"</p><p>"Wouldn't you?" She scoffed at him.</p><p>"I wouldn't be doing this in the first place." The smirk that spread across his features was a smug one.</p><p>"Yes, but you're such a good girl, aren't you Granger?" She ignored his provocation, as much as he aggravated her, he seemed to be making a point, what's more, it was the only lead they had. But what did that tell them? Exactly nothing.</p><p>.....................</p><p>As the sun burned away the last of the fog, Hermione made her down the dirt path to Hagrid's hut, having just left a rather unimpressed Malfoy in the frigid green house alongside Professor Longbottom. She smirked triumphantly as she pulled her woollen winter coat tighter around her, and shoved her gloved hands into her pockets. It was Malfoy's idea of a nightmare to be left listening to Neville's ramblings, and what's worse is he knew he couldn't ignore him, Hermione had left him with her enchanted quill and parchment to take notes of their meeting. She didn't know she had more sympathy for.</p><p>She carried her glee with her down the hill into the pumpkin patch where it immediately vanished. Amongst the impossibly oversized pumpkins, lay a rather lethargic looking Hippogriff. At first Hermione thought it was Buckbeak, but on closer inspection noted it's feathers more of a chestnut colour. It barely noted her presence, which told her enough to know the creature was far from healthy.</p><p>"Oh, 'Ermione! I thought that was yeh." With a start, she spun around and saw Hagrid coming from inside his cabin, a string of dead ferrets hanging around his neck like a meaty scarf. She took a step back before he could reach out for a hug, keeping him talking so he wouldn't notice.</p><p>"Hagrid, what's wrong with him?" His great smile fell, a deep frown setting in. He sighed deeply, ripping a ferret from his necklace and chucking it within the creature's reach. The hippogriff flinched, seemed to sniff at his treat then dropped his head once more.</p><p>"'Aven't a clue, 'Ermione. One day he's off chasin' the birds, prunin' his feathers an' that. The next..." He waved at the creature to prove his point. "Can't seem to get 'em to eat, neither."</p><p>"Is he the only one?" Hagrid answered without looking at her.</p><p>"Of the 'ippogriff's, yer. He's always wanderin' away from ther herd, this one, and no one'd dare approach a whole herd of 'em, well, no one who'd want ter live anyway. But a whole mess o'me creatures 'ave been turnin' up sick and the like." With another defeated sigh, he turned from the hippogriff and walked back to sit on the stone steps in front of his hut. Hermione followed after him.</p><p>"We'll find whoever's done this Hagrid, I promise." She placed a tiny hand on his knee, trying to comfort the giant. His distress didn't seem relieved in the slightest. She decided to skirt lightly around the truth.</p><p>"I s'pose it's too early for ya' ter have any leads or anything." Hermione pursed her lips in a tight smile. Even a rookie knew to never open their mouth about an active investigation. But this was Hagrid, after all. These creatures were his children. Besides, it's not like they had that much to tell anyway.</p><p>"Well, it's my personal belief that whoever is doing this has been stealing herbs from the green house and concocting their own potions and then likely testing these creations on your creatures, Hagrid." When she gazed up at him, trying to gage his reaction, he was nodding along with her, but his dark eyes were focused on his Hippogriff, still not touching his ferret. "You said that more of your creatures have been falling ill. Are they much smaller?" He nodded with more vigor.</p><p>"Oh yeah. The murtlap, couple of salamanders, even one of me Bowtruckles 'ave gone missin'. 'Course, nothing with wings, except this one here, has got sick, that's how we knew it weren't an accident."</p><p>"Well, whoever is doing this must be one of your better students, Hagrid. Bowtruckles don't trust anyone and Hippogriff's are far less friendly." <em>That's putting it lightly</em>.</p><p>Hermione was about to ask Hagrid for a list of some of his top students but she could tell he was no longer paying attention to the conversation, all his focus was on the hippogriff now, calling to him, trying to coax him to eat. She figured she could regroup with Malfoy, get some coffee and lunch into her and warm up her frozen fingers and try again with Hagrid. Maybe by dinner he would be in better spirits. It was against her nature to walk away without getting the information she came for, but again, this was Hagrid. Her friend. The last thing she wanted was to upset him further. Surely one more day wouldn't make that much of a difference.</p><p>"I'm going to go see if Malfoy's found anything out from Neville." Hermione explained to the back of Hagrid's head. He gave no inclination of having heard her, but she carried on anyway. "I promise we will find who did this, Hagrid. We'll make them pay."</p><p>"Oh, 'course you will." He turned, forcing a smile. He dug into the pockets of his coat and pulled out a small bag, and handed it to her. "A treat for yer, Kneazle. Seen him runnin' about over the hills all mornin' with the other one." With a grateful smile, she plucked the bag of treats from Hagrid's enormous hand and pocketed them, called another goodbye over her shoulder and trudged back up the hill towards the clock tower, now more desperate than ever for that coffee.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>.....................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco reclined back in his seat, stretching out his arms until he felt them crack into place. Granger's dark eyes flashed up at him, glowering from across the table. When he made no further disruptions she turned her attention back to her piles of open books. Currently she was scanning the pages of '<em>Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them',</em> looking for who knew what.  He let out a loud yawn, noticing with a smirk, Granger's knuckles whiten around the pages of her book. Resorting to infuriating Granger was childish, he knew, but he hadn't expected his first case in the field to be quite so dull. He had spent his entire morning gazing into the distance as old Longbottom had drawled on for what had felt like hours about his bloody plants, and as if that weren't bad enough he had then insisted that Draco follow him around the green house and then up into the potions stockroom. A quick glance had told him the place had been raided, and fairly recently too. He noted small shards of broken glass covered in droplets of who knew what scattered about the floor. Circles in the dust covered shelves eluding to several missing jars and vials.</p><p>Draco couldn't help but wonder the reaction his old potions master would have had to a student stealing from him. Well certainly no one would have dared cross him in the first place, not this brazenly.</p><p>He shuddered at the thought. Forcing the image of his old professor from his mind before the memories took him down a different route, one he had tried hard to forget for several years now.</p><p>"Don't feel obliged to keep me company out here." Granger spoke quietly, staring intently at the pages in front of her. She was scribbling notes on the parchment next to her. His lack of response caught her attention. "You're shivering." She waved her quill at him as if to illustrate her point. He could hardly correct her, could he?</p><p>"It's nothing." He said shortly. "I'll deal with it."</p><p>"Well, I appreciate the sacrifice." She looked down, letting her tight caramel curls cascade to hide her face, but he still spied the small smile within. He felt a tightening in the pit of his stomach. <em>That was odd</em>, he thought, but again shook his head as if to forcefully clear it.</p><p>"Are we even sure this is a case?" He asked suddenly. Her smile faded and her eyes snapped up at him again, burning through him.</p><p>"What, you think Neville sabotaged his <em>own</em> greenhouse?" She asked incredulously. Draco shrugged.</p><p>"It would hardly be the clumsiest thing Longbottom's ever done." She smacked her quill down.</p><p>"And Hagrid's creatures," She demanded with an intense stare. "How do you explain so many falling ill at the same time?" Draco's eyes came to life with a spark. He was enjoying this.</p><p>"Negligence?" She let out a gasp, as horrified by the insinuation as if she were the one he had accused of negligence. "It only takes one of them to get sick to pass it on to the others, he could be the one carrying it for all we know. Could have some spoiled feed." She shook her head. Seemingly unable to believe or accept what she was hearing.</p><p>"Okay, the missing ingredients in the store room?"</p><p>"You and I both took our liberties with the potions store room back in the day. Don't bother denying it either," He added quickly when her mouth fell open and the blood rushed to her cheeks. She was ready to argue. "I was set the task of catching you in the act multiple times over the years." She shot to her feet, knocking her chair over in the process. Planting both hands on the desk she leaned across the table. Draco was now suddenly fighting the urge to let his gaze drift down, but he didn't dare break away from Granger's fierce stare.</p><p>"And McGonagall? You can't honestly tell me you think that is also just a coincidence?" She was getting herself so worked up now, the furious blush on her cheeks had made it's way down her neck and further still. Draco was unable to stop himself from taking in the view she had presented him. Her blouse fell away from her skin as she leaned forwards, allowing Draco an unobstructed view of her breasts as they spilled out of their lace confines. His stomach tightened again, knotting itself double and triple times over.</p><p>He was pulled from his stupor when one of her hands gently cupped his chin, tilting it up and forcing him to pry his eyes from her breasts and meet her gaze. Her tiny fingers tightened around his chin, and her gaze intensified. He was pleased to find that her fury had not quelled her blush. She leaned in closer still, he could feel her cool breath on his skin. His own breath caught in his throat when she didn't stop until their noses touched. When she spoke, he could swear he felt her lips brush ever so gently on his own.</p><p>"If you're quite done now," She whispered against him. It was everything Draco could do to swallow the guttural groan that almost escaped his lips. "I'd like us to get back to work." She pulled back from him, leaving a cold distance between them. She was smug but even she couldn't hide the dark longing in her own eyes. He knew he wasn't imagining that. Though, Draco was focused more on the reaction she had elicited from him. He resented being at the whim of someone else. Especially when that someone was Hermione bloody Granger. The smirk still twitching at her lips only worked him up further.</p><p>As if to illustrate her point further, she pulled her wand from her bag, pointing it at her unruly curls and started waving it about in a circular motion. All at once her locks began floating, moving in time with the movements of her wand, he couldn't help but notice as the buttons holding her shirt together strained against her movements. She wound and twisted her hair into a messy little knot at the crown of her head. Skewering it into place with her wand. With a self-satisfied look at Draco, she picked up another book,<em> 'Common Magical Ailments',</em> and tossed it towards him, the book flipping open on it's own.</p><p>She continued to hold his gaze until Draco smirked back at her, though from the look of fear that flashed across her features in that split second, they both recognised his smile to be far less friendly. In fact, had she read him correctly, which he presumed she did, She knew he was planning his revenge. He had to give credit to Granger for finding one of the few ways to keep Draco's undivided attention.</p><p><em>Just you wait</em>. He thought maliciously.</p><p>He pulled the book closer to him but still his eyes remained on her. He was in a total state of shock, and trying desperately to hide by feigning bemusement. The smug look on her face told him he was failing miserably.</p><p>He had just never looked at her in that way, never thought about her in anyway except as Potter's little swotty friend. The goodie-two-shoes, buck-toothed, bushy haired rule follower she had been in their Hogwarts days. He found it hard to get his brain around the fact that nearly a decade ago the two of them could have been sat in these very seats and he would laughed at the thought that one day little Hermione Granger could have elicited anything more than disgust from him. He shifted against his now uncomfortably tight trousers, this was anything but disgust. That fact alone should have worried him, but it only deepened his curiosity. He was now determined, and he could hardly believe it himself, to find out what was underneath the shirt and tight pencil skirt, Granger flounced about in every day. He couldn't even explain why it was he found himself so determined. She had barely touched him after all. He could lie and tell himself it was a game, the thrill of the chase. But he knew it wasn't. Perhaps it was simply who she was, morbid fascination was finally getting the better of him? Well that's what he would tell anyone who asked anyway.</p><p>She glanced up at him through her dark lashes, her knowing smirk widening.</p><p>
  <em>Fine!</em>
</p><p>He picked up the book, tapped his wand against his own pile of parchment and quill in a silent incantation and began speed reading, muttering ever so slightly under his breath. The only other sound penetrating the silence of the upper floor of the library was the constant scratching of his quill as he continued making notes. If this was how she wanted to play, he would. He still wasn't convinced about the validity of this so-called case, but if taking it seriously was what it took to find himself on the other side of Granger then he was more than willing to put on a show. Besides, there was nothing else to do anyway.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is a little longer, i guess i got a bit carried away there.<br/>hope you guys enjoy it!</p><p>:)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their footsteps echoed down the stone corridor, bouncing off the walls. Hermione focused on the sound, listening for every individual step. Her head hung low, her curls obscuring her face, she stared down at her own feet, attempting to match the longer strides of the polished black, pointed shoes beside her. She didn't dare steal a glance toward him, let alone break the deafening silence to speak. What would she say anyway?</p><p>Her face grew warm as she answered her own question. Her mind flashed back mere hours, her lips so close to his she could feel the heat emanating from him, the way his eyes darkened when they had flickered away from her face, against his will. This hadn't surprised her, Draco Malfoy had hardly ever kept it a secret what he once thought of her heritage, and if she ever had trouble remembering, a quick peek at his left arm reminded her of her folly. Without thinking, her hand flew up to her own arm, tugging self-consciously at the sleeve of her coat.</p><p>Ron and Harry questioned his beliefs on a near daily basis, so much so, it had come as a shock to Hermione when Malfoy had been offered his current position. The reasoning behind their pairing, far less surprising.</p><p>But now that the thought was there, it was so much harder to ignore. Had Draco really changed?</p><p>"Do you intend on staring at the floor like dimwit for the whole night?" His sneering voice making her jump. When she finally looked up she noticed she was alone in the corridor. Malfoy had left her and was now standing off to the side in an alcove, his hand clutching the door knob to his chambers, staring at her curiously.</p><p>How long had she been standing there?</p><p><em>Idiot</em>.</p><p>Without a word to him, she made towards the door across from his, fumbling with the door knob. She meant to disappear into the darkness within, hoping to avoid looking at his face again for the night, when his voice bounced across the stone again.</p><p>"Until tomorrow, Granger." She didn't look back, she stayed silent, refusing to give herself away, but she could feel his stare boring through the back of her head. The castle around them remained quiet, he hadn't moved, his door hadn't closed. Was he waiting for her? She screwed her eyes shut.</p><p><em>Stop being stupid</em>. She cursed herself. For Merlin's sake, she was behaving like a school girl again.</p><p>"Goodnight, Malfoy." She whispered, barely looking over her shoulder, knowing her voice would carry. And closed the door on him.</p><p>Unfortunately it was harder to shut him out of her mind.</p><p>While Hermione prepared for bed, her mind continued to replay the events of the evening, to her chagrin. As she changed out of her clothes, she periodically paused, shuddering to herself, before continuing.</p><p>So worked up and unable to clear her mind, she was couldn't even enjoy a few chapters of reading to help drift into sleep. Instead, she laid in the dark, wrapped up in her cool linen sheets, watching the fire across the room as it slowly died down.</p><p>She was twirling her fingers through her kneazle's long grey coat, the last sparks of the fire barely visible beneath the logs, when Knightshade's head suddenly snapped up. His long ears were pointed straight, his hackles raised, Hermione could just barely make out his dilated pupils. He stared so intently at the door that it unnerved her. Even as the room was plunged into darkness, Knightshade was alert, and Hermione knew there was no one in the room with them. Not only had she lay awake all night listing all the things that severely infuriated her about her new partner, but she had enchanted the door several times over, no one in the castle, besides McGonagall herself, would have made it through that door. Certainly not without her knowledge.</p><p>Her breath hitched in her throat when Poppy, who was now also guarding the door, began to growl, so low at first she hadn't even heard it, she could feel it reverberating through her body. Ignoring the twisting in her stomach, and the racing of her heart, Hermione urged herself to remain still. Waiting. Listening.</p><p>When both cats leapt from the bed and began yowling and scratching at the door, Hermione followed suit. Instinct had taken over, her body remembered what to do. As her mind fell blank, she reached for the wand on her nightstand.</p><p>"Lumos." She whispered in a husky voice. Without hesitation she wrenched her door open, finding no one there, she darted out into the hallway, waving her lightened wand to and fro, she was still alone. When she turned to look for instruction from her pets, she noted that hadn't followed her into the hallway, they had instead run across the alcove and were now scratching and mewing at Malfoy's door.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, she urged the drumming in her head to cease. She placed an ear against his door. Nothing. He could have used similar enchantments on his own chambers. She knocked.</p><p>Nothing. She banged several times, making the timber doorframes shake against her.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>The cats continued, Hermione's uneasiness grew.</p><p>"Oh, sod it." She muttered. Flicking her wand at the door and bursting through once she heard the familiar click.</p><p>Hermione would have screamed, but her voice caught and all that escaped her lips was a husky gasp. A figured loomed over Malfoy's bed, hidden beneath a fur coat. She could barely make out the outline of the figure as it hastily stepped away from Malfoy and tripped over itself to the window, the only other escape.</p><p>"Stupefy!" She bellowed, having found her voice again. The force from her wand sent the assailant through the window, shattering glass all over the floor. Without thinking she ran to the ledge, sticking her head out, the only illumination coming from the moon. It was still too dark, she couldn't see anything. The castle grounds was all shadows at night time. She fought against the warm stinging sensation in her feet, she was so close, how could she let them go.</p><p>Malfoy groaned behind her. Merlin, how could she have forgotten about him?</p><p>She grit her teeth as she crossed the threshold to Malfoy's side, leaving a trail of bloodied footprints behind her. <em>I'll clean it later</em>. She promised herself,<em> before the elves find it</em>.</p><p>Using her wand, she lit the candles on the nightstand, and had to stifle her shock when the extent of his injuries became clear. Deep gashes ran from his shoulder down to his waist, his neck and cheek were both oozing so much blood she couldn't see where the original wounds were. He was barely conscious, the wounds at his neck pulsated with new blood any time he struggled to speak. Already, her own hands were stained a reddish brown, where was she meant to start?</p><p>Another deep breath calmed the hammering in her chest, the beating in her ears. She cleared her throat, wand in hand.</p><p>"Locomotor." She whispered clearly. Raising Malfoy from his bed and hovering him at level with her wand. Carefully she aimed her wand out the door and into her own chambers, laying back down onto her bed. While dabbing at his open wounds, she spoke to Knightshade over her shoulder, who was now sitting dutifully at the end of the bed, guarding his master.</p><p>"Find Neville, bring him here. Don't let anyone else follow." He replied with a low meow and took off, padding down the corridors. Hermione whipped the door closed behind him, locking, silencing and throwing up a protection ward. She thought about the glass embedded in her foot, and added another protection charm to her window as well.</p><p>She should have sent an owl to Harry, or got word to him through the floo network, but something stopped her. <em>You don't know who's watching you, you don't know who to trust</em>. She repeated the fact to herself over and over, while it was true it wasn't her reasoning. But her hesitation made no sense, it was illogical. She hadn't even wanted to be partnered with Malfoy in the first place, and he was right, this was hardly the most interesting case, well until now at least. And yet, she didn't want it to end.</p><p>It wasn't long before she heard Neville's voice outside her door. He was wrapped up in his robes, shuffling about in his slippers, shivering from the cold. He looked as if he hadn't been having a good night long before she had sent for him. He handed a vial to her as she was resealing her door. Knightshade took his guard post at the end of the bed once more, growling at Neville when he stood too close.</p><p>"Essence of Murtlap." He explained, eyeing the kneazle and taking a seat in the arm chair by the fireplace, the flame growing to life again with the flick of his own wand.</p><p>"What happened?" He asked, Hermione was dutifully soaking the rags in murtlap and warm water before dabbing them at Malfoy's skin again. Almost immediately the effects took hold. His breathing steadied, his violent shakes also, and soon it seemed he had drifted to sleep. She tightly wound bandages around him as she spoke to Neville.</p><p>"I don't know, something was in there with him, it was too dark I couldn't make out a thing. It was leaning over him when I went in, I must have startled it, it was already going for the window and when I attacked it dove through. I tried looking, but..." She trailed off with a sigh, remembering her frustration having let the assailant escape.</p><p>"Consider yourself lucky it didn't go after you." Neville said quietly.</p><p>"They look animal." She said, nodding to Malfoy's injuries.</p><p>"You think it was a werewolf?" He asked, looking terrified. "The full moon's only two days out."</p><p>"Maybe." She whispered, unconvinced. "It looked human, but these wounds. It just doesn't make sense." Neville took a long look at Malfoy's body, the bandages already stained.</p><p>"He'd probably be better in the hospital wing, you know. I can call Madam Pomfrey-"</p><p>"No." She said firmly. "Right now I don't trust anyone here, except you and Hagrid. And I'm certainly not leaving him in the hospital wing defenceless." Wanting to avoid an argument, Neville simply nodded his compliance. "Don't speak about this with anyone, be careful what you say around others. If our years here taught us anything, it's that anyone can be the enemy." Neville stood, still nodding to himself, making to leave when Hermione spoke to him again, her voice softer than before.</p><p>"Oh, and Neville?" His dark eyes met hers. "Would you mind taking care of the mess in Malfoy's room before anyone else sees it?" He agreed and left the room. Leaving Hermione alone and without a bed to sleep in. Instead she hobbled over to the armchair and fell into the cushion, her legs dangling over the arm rest, the dried blood caked over her bare feet.</p><p>"Accio tweezers." At least she was already in pain, grabbing her foot and pulling it toward her chest, this would hardly make it any worse.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>...............................................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hermione pounded the stone walkway into the Great Hall, her pointed heels announcing her arrival with sharp click-clacking. Several students from the Gryffindor table lifted their heads as she walked by, a few sharing whispers. This, of course, was something she was used to, she never paid it any mind before. Now, though... Now was different, what if the whispers were more than idle story telling of her dangerous and reckless adventures as a student? Any one of these children could be the assailant from the other night, one of them could know something.</p><p>She shook her head, <em>they're just children</em>.</p><p><em>But that never stopped you</em>...</p><p>She bit down on her groan. Hundreds of people walked the grounds of the castle, how was she going to find the one person that had very cleverly disguised themselves? Her eyes followed anyone who showed signs of a limp, any injury at all. So far, she had come up empty handed.</p><p>Time was ticking, Harry had already given her an extension after a heated argument through the fireplace. He had wanted to pull them both out straight away. When he questioned Hermione as to why she refused to leave, she had been left scrambling for an acceptable answer. He seemed satisfied when she had mumbled something about refusing to accept defeat and not allowing Malfoy's injury to affect her reputation in the office.</p><p>"Did you want to sit down, Miss Granger?" A young raven-haired Gryffindor girl, probably no older than fifteen asked her. Her vibrant green eyes stared up at Hermione, wide with concern. Of course, she had just been standing at the end of the table, glaring at the food and unmoving for who knows how long. With a sheepish smile, she shook her head, instead piling up a platter of food and snatching a pitcher of steaming coffee before turning to leave. Her robes fanning out behind her in a rather theatrical manner, reminding herself of a certain professor.</p><p> </p><p>When she returned to her chambers, taking in the empty and neatly made bed, she nearly dropped the sizeable plate of breakfast from her hands.</p><p>"That better be coffee, Granger. It's been days and I'm dying over here." Hermione's eyes followed the sound of the sneering voice and found a limp, lean and obscenely pale, white-haired man lounging across her armchair, absently stroking the fur of the charcoal coloured kneazle in his lap. Poppy was curled up in a tight ball at his neck.</p><p>"What have you done with my pets?" She demanded in a accusatory tone. He smirked, taking the mug of coffee she handed him, both cats looking disgruntled with the disruption.</p><p>"So, have you magically uncovered the identity of my assailant yet?" He asked, eyeing her knowingly. She fell onto the edge of the bed, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips. It had been several days now, and she had still come up empty handed.</p><p>"Of course not." He said, still smirking. "Are you ready to admit you can't figure it all out on your own and let me actually do my job?" She began picking apart a croissant, nibbling on the stray flakes of pastry.</p><p>"Harry thinks you should go home." She whispered. This made him scoff. His face scrunching up in disgust, though, Hermione noted, he never stopped delicately petting her cat.</p><p>"No, Potter thinks we should both be pulled out. But we both know that's not going to happen, so you might as well accept that we're stuck together and get on with it."</p><p>"And if you get attacked again?" She asked, trying to mask her concern at the thought. He waved her off.</p><p>"I imagine it'll be a lot like the first time." She didn't like that thought, his face and neck had nicely within the day, but she caught a glimpse of his bare chest when he was changing and had seen the thick pink scar tissue left behind. It would take much longer for those wounds to heal, but she knew from experience those scars weren't going to fade.</p><p>While she was caught up in her thoughts, Malfoy stretched a long arm out and began picking at the platter in Hermione's lap, occasionally offering up small pieces of cheese to the cats perched on him.</p><p>"Well, I imagine it matters very little what I say, and you'll just do what you want anyway." He nodded at this, too consumed in feeding his own breakfast to her cats to look at her. "So, what do you suggest, then?"</p><p>"Glad we see things my way." He mused, meeting her eyes with his icey stare. "Actually talking to people might be a good start." She rolled her eyes.</p><p>"We've spoken to the professors, none of them could imagine any of their students doing such a thing." He raised an eyebrow, one side of his mouth curling up.</p><p>"And you told your professors everything you did when you were off breaking school rules?" She looked away as her cheeks grew hot, unable to hold his stare. It unnerved her how much attention he seemed to have paid to her circle of friends without her every realising it. She had assumed he was too caught up in his own bigotry to pay her any mind.</p><p>"One of  the best ways to avoid being caught assaulting students and teachers is to not tell everyone you're doing it."</p><p>"Well, I'm not daft. I realised that, of course. But no one can keep all those secrets, or hide everything they're doing. It's impossible, someone would notice something." His expression turned cold, all humour leaving his features, his mouth forming a hard, thin line.</p><p>"Did you know what <em>I</em> was doing?" Hermione flinched, and then immediately regretted it when his eyes dropped from hers. The reminder of those years still shameful to him.</p><p>"We, well, Harry, strongly suspected." A bitter sneer formed, and he scoffed.</p><p>"And did anyone actually believe you?"</p><p>"Point taken." She admitted. "Surely they would have to confide in someone. Friends, siblings, a trusted teacher." He shook his head, remaining silent for a moment.</p><p>"Not everyone is incapable of keeping secrets, Granger." For some reason, unknown to her, this infuriated Hermione. She dropped the platter on the bed next to her, standing up in a huff, towering over his lounging figure.</p><p>"Perhaps we should go and interrogate all the Slytherin students, then?" Her voice rose several octaves, both cat's ears lay flat against their heads, though Malfoy remained unbothered. He peered up at her, popping a grape into his mouth with a grin. "The crutiatus curse should work just fine."</p><p>"I think you would find it more painful than them." She glared down at him, knowing he was right. She wasn't a monster after all. "Besides, that would hardly be necessary, no self-respecting Slytherin would be so brazen in their attempts to attack someone." She certainly remembered Malfoy having an affinity for sneaking around undetected throughout their schooling. Had it not been for that map, they likely never would have known he was up to something.</p><p>"No, brazen and brutish, that sounds a little more up your alley, no?" She gasped, insulted by the insinuation. But again, thought back to her time with Harry, his inability to control his emotions at times, or to think clearly. She had always hated to think what could have happened to him had she not been there to hold him back, begging him to see reason. She sank back onto the bed.</p><p>"I doubt House traits are going to lead us anywhere promising." She mumbled, forcing herself to calm down. He dipped his once in agreement. Silently, she ran over the conversations she had had over the last couple days while Malfoy had been laying unconscious.</p><p>"Neville kept suggesting a werewolf." She thought aloud. "He was supposed to bring me a list of the students afflicted with lycanthropy."</p><p>"The full moon was yesterday though? How could it have been?" Hermione shrugged, unable to come up with any other lead to follow.</p><p>"Werewolves are still people, Malfoy, at least for the rest of the moon cycle. They could simply <em>choose</em> to attack, though why you, I'm still not sure." She was shaking her head, scrunching her eyes, forcing herself to remember something she didn't see. "It didn't attack me either. So who, or whatever it was must have had some modicum of control." When she opened her eyes again she was greeted with the sight of Malfoy's pale chest, now free from his bandages. He had unbuttoned his black shirt and was tracing the ugly scars from his shoulder down to his side. Hermione felt her eyes flickering away from the scars, wandering over the rest of him.</p><p>"They're healing, and you only used Murtlap, correct?" Hermione cleared her throat, looking away to hide her blushing face.</p><p>"Yes, it's all Neville brought me, and it was good for the pain."</p><p>"It can't have been a werewolf then." When she faced him again he was still tracing the scars with his slender fingers. "The only thing to close up wounds made by a werewolf is a mixture of silver and dittany. It can't be." Hermione started, unable to hide the impressed shock on her face.</p><p>"Oh, that's rather clever." She didn't even think of that.</p><p>"You aren't the only one with the ability to read, Granger. Some of us just don't feel the incessant need to brag about it." She felt her skin burning and knew it had nothing to do with the fire next to her. But when she opened her mouth the speak, she saw the sparkle of humour in his grey eyes. His pursed lips were just waiting for her to bite back. Well, she just wouldn't give him the satisfaction then.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>..........................................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco trailed a few paces behind Granger, his hand clutching at his ribs as his side throbbed in pain with every step. He was only able to grit his teeth and bare it by allowing his eyes to covertly trace the body in front of him. Her bob of curls bouncing as she thundered down the corridors of the castle, students jumping out of her way and then whispering to themselves as they watched her. Only a handful had also noticed the tall, blonde man walking behind her and with wide fearful eyes continued their fevered whispering. That was far more irritating than the pain in his side. So his eyes wandered further down Granger's back, the form-fitting pencil skirt, flaring out below her knees. Her pointed black heels clicking against the stone. And then his eyes wandered back up, only to find a pair of amber eyes glaring back at him over her shoulder.</p><p>"I can feel you burning a hole in the back of my head." She whispered, having slowed down enough for him to match her stride for stride. He wasn't even ashamed, but he could hardly admit that to her. <em>Bloody Granger would lord that over me for the next century</em>.</p><p>"Why are we doing this, again?" He asked, changing the subject. "I thought we agreed it couldn't be a werewolf." She looked straight ahead, her head held high and replied quietly.</p><p>"Be that as it may, someone in this school managed to sneak into your room, rip your skin into ribbons and then jump out of a window five storeys high without ever touching the ground. Werewolf or not, there has to be some kind of physical sign."</p><p>"So we're just going to sit in on entire lessons staring at children until we find one that looks evil enough?" She rolled her eyes, infuriating him.</p><p>"I was thinking, perhaps someone with a limp, gashes on their arms from being forced through a glass window. Maybe even sickly." He huffed.<br/>"But we're still going to sit through entire lessons?" She merely looked over at him, a bored expression on her face. He sighed, giving up with the argument. Of course they were going to do what Granger wanted. What leg did he have to stand on?</p><p>He had barely made it through school the first time, and that was enough of a chore, he thought having passed all his exams and becoming an auror his daily life might have been... exciting?</p><p>She had taken them down into the dungeons, the familiar cold, stale air filling his lungs. Making him feel uncomfortably at home. There was a reason he had specifically requested they be housed far above ground. This was the last place he wanted to be.</p><p>Quietly, they entered the potions classroom, Slughorn giving them a nod of acknowledgment but never pausing in his lecture. They sat at the back of the room, in a dark corner, and watched as the students put away their quills and parchment and walked over to their cauldrons.</p><p>Wordlessly, Draco grabbed the hand of a Slytherin boy who had been about to carelessly dump the contents of his vial into his bubbling cauldron. There was something deep inside him that stirred restlessly at the thought of allowing someone, a Slytherin no less, to give so little thought to the draught he was creating, and the small explosion that would likely have occurred.</p><p>When he returned to the corner next to Granger, who had been taking notes while watching everyone like a hawk, she smiled.</p><p>"I suppose this is you not bragging about your extensive knowledge." He sucked at his teeth, refusing to engage with her while she was acting this smug. As if he'd ever be as annoying as she was.</p><p>"I had a good teacher." Was all he said. Her eyes grew dark and her smile faded. He too, felt the emptiness that came when remembering anyone who had died that night. Immediately he regretted this and figured he might as well distract himself otherwise he'd die of boredom. Ignoring the multitude of foolish students who seemed to skim over their instructions before haphazardly throwing ingredients into their cauldrons, he walked back to the supply closet, which had now been thoroughly cleaned and replenished.</p><p>Lighting his wand, his eyes scanned the shelves, searching for something. Granger had said so herself, the professors were far more vigilant these days than they had been before. They kept records of any students admitted with lycanthropy. According to the list they had been given, only two of them were current students, and both had to be given doses of wolfsbane every night for the week leading up to the full moon. He was almost disappointed when his eyes fell upon the half empty bottle, clean of dust. It was clearly getting a lot of use.</p><p>Granger was deep into her note taking, raising her head every so often to scan the room, narrowing her eyes on a particular student before bowing her head once more. He couldn't imagine what she could be taking so many thorough notes for. It was clear just by looking around none of these kids could be the culprit. Besides the fact that none of them appeared to be injured, they were all terribly hopeless at potion brewing, laughably so.</p><p>He found himself sauntering around the classroom for the rest of the hour, pretending to peruse a copy of <em>Advanced Potion Making </em>as he moved about, all the while stealing glances at his partner. He watched from the other side of the room as she tugged and twirled at a strand of hair as she concentrated. Draco's attention began drifting. He was in the middle of imagining knotting his fingers in her mess of curls when she snapped her fingers in his face. He hadn't heard the students filing out of the classroom, he hadn't noticed as Granger made her way over to him, not bothering to hide her annoyance.</p><p>"At least pretend to pay attention, Malfoy." She hissed under her breath while she stood chest to chest with him. His torso making the lightest contact with hers with every breath.</p><p>"I <em>was</em> pretending." He scoffed, feigning annoyance and looking away before his wandering eyes could betray him.</p><p>"Well, be better then." She demanded as the pudgy bespectacled professor lumbered over.</p><p>"Oh, Miss Granger!" He sang, his arms outstretched, though neither made an attempt to embrace. "What a delight to have you in my classroom once again." Draco didn't miss the quick glance he shot his way before hurriedly continuing to address only Granger. He was jittery, but Draco was almost certain it was solely to do with the professor's fear and apprehension towards him. Many of his old professors had trouble hiding their unnerved looks when he was around.</p><p>"It's so nice to see you again, Professor." He could hear the insincerity in her voice, too high pitched to be believable, but he was certain the old man hadn't noticed.</p><p>"Oh, please. Horace." Granger smiled graciously, touching his elbow and leading him towards the door, Draco followed a few steps behind.</p><p>"Horace, you know why we're here." The old man nodded, a sympathetic smile on his round face. "We already know about two of your students," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "A second year, Annabelle and a boy in his sixth year, Justin." Slughorn nodded, urging her to continue. "Have they been taking their, er, medicine every month?"</p><p>"Oh yes, of course. If they don't come themselves I often stop them after class. The Headmistress is quite strict about these things, you see." Granger nodded.</p><p>"And, how are they as students?" He gave her a quizzical look.</p><p>"I'm not sure how you mean, Miss Granger." Draco sighed, loudly. Earning a burning stare from Granger.</p><p>"She's asking if you think either of them possesses the talent to brew complicated potions, without getting caught I might add, to poison Professor McGonagall." He looked shocked and outraged at the insinuation.</p><p>"Well, surely not. No, of course not. And if I thought that any of my students capable of something so heinous, I assure you, you'd already know about it."</p><p>"Of course, Prof- Horace. What my partner is trying, poorly, to say is; Do you think any of your students could be capable of anything like this?" He shook his head so aggressively his cheeks shook. "Have any of them been acting differently lately? Withdrawn, missing classes, anything abnormal really." She had her hand on his shoulder and was using her body as a direct shield, blocking Draco from Slughorn's view. It seemed to work, he calmed down enough to actually think.</p><p>"Yes well, as you can imagine most of the fifth years are all rather tightly wound, O.W.L.s and all that. But now that you mention it, that boy, Justin Deverill, has been rather quiet and sickly the last week. I gave him the potion each day, but you can never be sure that they've actually taken it of course."</p><p>"Where is he, right now?" Draco asked, over the top of Granger's hair.</p><p>"Oh, erm, he usually sits outside, day like today, the sun would be doing wonders for him." With a curt nod, Draco grabbed Granger's arm and pulled her after him. Allowing her to only give a quick goodbye to the potion's professor. He'd had enough of listening to his drivel.</p><p>"That was quite rude you know." She huffed, half jogging to keep up with Draco's long strides.</p><p>"Granger, we don't have time to sit and play catch up with all our old teachers. We do actually have a job to do. And I for one would like to find the cretin responsible for this," he jabbed his thumb at his chest, "before they have a chance to have another go."</p><p>"Yes, but it doesn't hurt to be polite." She was wrong, it felt like someone had rubbed chilli over his wounds. Gritting his teeth, he pressed a firm hand to abdomen and pushed on.</p><p>They were outside now, Draco scanned the fields realising he hadn't bothered to ask for a description of the boy he was looking for. It wasn't long before he found the likely suspect. His eyes fell on a lone teenager sat  by the water's edge, even from their distance, Draco could see the scarring on the his face. He powered down the hill towards him, Granger still chattering by his side.</p><p>"It's no wonder everyone is still afraid of you." She continued in a huff. "It'd be a lot easier to get information from people if I wasn't the only one people would talk to." He stopped abruptly, causing her to bump into him. He steadied her, looking straight into her eyes.</p><p>"If I promise to be nicer when I talk to people, will you stop talking right now?" She nodded, looking pleasantly surprised. "Fine then, but no more from you." She nodded. She seemed to bounce along beside him after that, proud that she had gotten her own way.</p><p>"Justin Deverill?" Draco asked sternly when they reached the boy, his head buried in a book. He noted the red and gold tie. "Oh, look at that, a Gryffindor." He looked over at Granger, who's smile had vanished, replaced now with a scowl.</p><p>"Can I help you?" He asked, his voice wavering. Granger, having noticed his anxiety, knelt down in the grass beside him and introduced herself.</p><p>"Have you been taking the wolfsbane potion Professor Slughorn's been giving you?" She asked quietly, after looking over her shoulder making sure they wouldn't be overheard. The kid looked taken aback, opening his mouth, presumably to ask how it was we knew about him.</p><p>"Yes or no, Justin. You're looking a little pale, are you sure you've been taking your medicine?" Granger jumped to her feet, placing a firm hand on Draco's chest, ignoring his wince, and pushed him several steps back before returning to the boy.</p><p>"I don't know why you're asking." The boy said, standing up, Draco noted he didn't appear to be limping. "But yes, I don't exactly enjoy what happens when I don't." His pale eyes fell to his feet. "It's not worth it." Before they could ask anymore questions, a group of students interrupted them. An ashen haired Hufflepuff girl stepped between Granger and the boy, lightly placing a hand on his arm. She shot a resentful glare at Granger, her eyes were a startling shade of blue, so dark they looked black. She looked distinctly like a demon, but Draco refrained from mentioning this out loud, knowing it wouldn't win him any favours with his partner.</p><p>"What do you want with him?" She demanded, narrowing her terrifying eyes. Not one to back down from an argument, Granger shot back.</p><p>"We're just asking him some questions, if that's alright with you." Her voice dripping with resentment.</p><p>"Actually, it's not the best time." She snapped, bending to pick up Justin's book bag and place it on his shoulder. Draco bit down on his tongue to stop from grinning at how pathetic this boy was. He already knew they were wasting their time with this one. <em>Maybe it </em>was<em> the twelve year old,</em> he mused to himself.</p><p>"We have class now." The fair haired girl whipped her head away from Granger and spoke directly to the boy. "Come on, Justin. We've got herbology now, I don't want to be late." She threw another glance over her shoulder at the two of them as she escorted the werewolf boy up the hill and towards the greenhouses.</p><p>"I don't like that girl." She all but growled when the children were a safe distance away.</p><p>"I hardly noticed." He replied, trying hard to not to laugh. "She was probably the most impressive Hufflepuff I've ever seen."</p><p>"Maybe that's why." He knotted his brows, looking down at her. The anger having left her eyes.</p><p>"Why what?"</p><p>"Why I don't trust her." She said. Before leaving him alone by the water's edge.</p><p>Nice or not, that woman was never satisfied. Infuriatingly, it only made him more eager to please her. He'd never struggled to get on the right side of a woman when he wanted to. Admittedly, he'd also never really had to try very hard, if they were that much effort, he quickly lost interest. Curiously, his intrigue only grew with Granger. Not that he'd admit that to her of course. Perhaps he wouldn't fight to move into his own quarters just yet. Sharing a room with Granger might prove to be worth while after all.</p><p>Besides, he thought as he slipped his hand between the buttons of his shirt and came back with glistening red fingers, something worthwhile had to come from this.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco leant back in his chair, tilting it as far back as he dared. He'd been playing the same game for the better part of an hour as Hermione Granger, obsessive nutter that she was, had alternated between pacing in circles around the table, drumming her fingers against the desk they shared and talking at any one who made the mistake of walking into the hidden room on the second floor of the library. At least, Draco had assumed it was hidden, he certainly had never seen it when he was at school, not that he spent much time in the library in those days. Whatever it had been, it was no longer secret or hidden, Granger had called nearly every professor and student she thought could give her information on the werewolf boy, Justin Deverill. Though he had a sneaking suspicion it had very little to do with the boy.</p><p>Draco had made a point of remaining silent during these interrogations and offering very little in the way of commentary afterwards, his reward being the discolouration in her cheeks and neck as she struggled to contain her emotions and refrain from screaming. He could guarantee that no matter how annoyed she may find his reluctance to work, it paled in comparison to having to sit through the same inane conversations with these dull children and decrepit professors. Draco was becoming more and more convinced that the castle seemed to enchant it's faculty so that they might continue teaching for centuries without dying. Then he thought of his History of Magic professor, clearly death wasn't a deterrent.</p><p>And here Draco sat, swinging back and forth on his chair, twirling his wand between his fingers and taking every opportunity to take out his annoyance on Granger while also enjoying the view his current position offered him. Granger was perched on the corner of the table, feet on the chair, her pointed shoes discarded on the floor. She leant back, her hands splayed across the table in front of Draco and her loose hair brushing across the backs of his hands, the smell of coconuts filling his nose. She stared silently at the ceiling, deep in thought, while Draco gazed at her legs, her skirt pulled up above her knees so she could actually bend them. If he could just hook his fingers at the hem and tug it a little further up...</p><p>"You realise if we don't figure out who is doing all this, they'll bring us back and in and we'll be tied to our desks for the foreseeable future."</p><p>"I'm surprised that sounds like a punishment to you." Her head bobbed to the side, sending another wave of her curls to fall into Draco's face. He breathed her in.</p><p>"I figure if I scare you enough, you might actually help me." She laughed shortly. Still staring at the ceiling.</p><p>"There's not a lot left that would scare me anymore." He whispered. He'd stopped leering at her now. In fact, he'd rather be any where else right now, and definitely alone.</p><p>"I know." She said. "I try to pretend sometimes." He looked up at the back of her head, imagining he was looking straight into her amber eyes.</p><p>"That you're afraid of something?" He guessed.</p><p>"That I care about things. Any things, I'm not fussed." At this, Draco laughed. She turned her head to peer down at him.</p><p>"You could have fooled me, Granger. I know the comings and goings of Justin Deverill for the past month. I could tell you the results of any one of his tests from the last five years, and I definitely don't care about him." The corners of her lips curled.</p><p>"Well, that's just being thorough, it doesn't mean I care."</p><p>"I can't remember the last time I cared about anything." He said off-handed, now watching her hair make patterns on the table as she moved about. He could feel her looking down at him.</p><p>"I can." She said.</p><p>That was too much for Draco, he flicked her hair from his hands and pushed away from the table.</p><p>"I don't want to talk about this." He bit out. His tone flat and empty. But when she twisted on the table to face him, he could see that she wasn't hearing what he was trying to tell her.</p><p>
  <em>I can't talk about this. I can't give you what you want. What you need.</em>
</p><p>"No one does." She stared through him, her voice empty. She felt the same way he did, he could hear it. Why couldn't she just push it down like he did? Did she want him to cry with her or something? He hardened his expression, taking another step away from her.</p><p>"Please, Hermione." His heart leapt into his throat when he said her name. He was starting to slip. He had get away, but she had pinned him to the spot with her stare.</p><p>Finally, she dropped her gaze, allowing him to escape the room. He had just skirted the table, careful to look straight ahead, when she spoke again. This time, her voice was hard as steel.</p><p>"You can't keep ignoring your past and expect everyone else to do the same." Slowly, he spun on his heel. His body faced her, but his eyes were trained on her heels laying under the desk.</p><p>He took a deep breath, clenching his jaw. His control slipping fast.</p><p>Another. He glanced at her.</p><p>One more.</p><p>"I don't ignore it." He spat, wrinkling his nose as he struggled to contain himself. He ripped his sleeve up, not caring when he heard the seams split, and bared his marked forearm. "I have constant reminders, every day." He closed the distance between them, she flinched at his aggressive advance but didn't move away. He grabbed hold of her arm, and pulled her sleeve out of the way. "Everywhere." He watched her as her eyes fell onto the white scarring on her forearm. When she looked back, her eyes were glassy, but she held her composure.</p><p>"I'll never forget what happened, I don't need you reminding me."</p><p>She snatched her arm away, covering her arm. He let the fragments of his shirt sleeve fall back to partially cover his mark. His hands shook, he was out of control, he needed to leave. But her eyes held his again.</p><p>And then she smiled.</p><p>"See, Malfoy, I can get under your skin too." She winked, she actually winked. "And much like everything else, I'm better at it than you are. So perhaps you could stop behaving like a child, and actually do your job."</p><p>"You- what?" He panted. Why was he out of breath. Unable to form a thought, he wanted to scream at her, but no words came. He opened and closed his mouth, every time eliciting a wider grin from the woman sat in front of him. She was so smug.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. He growled internally.</p><p>Her eyes widened, darting from his eyes to his mouth.</p><p>Did he do that out loud? He was short circuiting. She had broken him. He couldn't think, let alone speak right now. She just sat there, watching him, the damned smirk still playing at her lips. He wanted to bite down on them until he tasted blood. He wanted to wipe that self-satisfied grin off her face. He wanted to...</p><p> </p><p>He covered her lips with his, holding her by her shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin, not caring if he hurt her. He swallowed her gasp, pressing for more. Desperate. Hungry.</p><p>He pulled back. His hands still gripping onto her, holding her away from him. Her eyes round, her mouth falling open. He looked away when he saw that he had bitten down on her lip.</p><p><em>What have you done, Draco? </em>Why did his own voice sound like his mother's?</p><p>His hands fell from her, like her skin burnt him. He took measured steps back. He wasn't ready to leave yet, as much as he wanted to be anywhere else but here, he had to get a handle on himself again.</p><p>She was so quiet. He'd never known her to tolerate the lack of her own voice.</p><p>She slid from the desk, holding his gaze. Trying to, Draco was staring at her shoes again.</p><p>She stepped towards him, faster than he was backing away. She gathered fistfuls of his shirt, pulling towards herself, not letting him leave.</p><p>He towered over her, he could very easily pry her fingers from him, push her away, make his escape. Why wasn't he moving? He should have been detaching, instead his hands rose to her arms, his fingers brushing her elbows, moving higher up her arms, he didn't dare touch her anywhere else.</p><p>But, why was he still touching her?</p><p>When her arms snaked around his neck, she'd needed to stretch up on her toes. He should have stepped back, but he moved into her, helping her. She pulled him further down, inclining her neck, until their lips met again. The kiss was light, soft, like she was testing something. Her arms tightened around his neck, locking him in her grasp, pressing her body into his and deepening the kiss.</p><p>Draco could no longer hear the voice in his head, telling him to detangle himself and leave. His hands flew to her back, her waist, dancing up the length of her body. He forced them closer, like he was trying to merge their bodies into one. She sighed into him and he tasted her tongue with his own, he was still waiting for her to break them apart and chastise him for his behaviour, but he couldn't hold himself back, his body reacted to her touch.</p><p>It was more than he could bare to not to rip off her clothes right there and trace her skin with his lips.</p><p>He moaned against her at the thought.</p><p> </p><p>..............................</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>His moan reverberated through her, driving her wild. Hermione couldn't think of the last time anyone had touched her like this, like they were gripping onto her for dear life. In fact, she didn't think anyone had ever reacted this way to her touch, not even Ron.</p><p>She involuntarily flinched at his name. The hands on her lower back froze, the lips on hers hardened. She realised her mistake too late. Slowly, painfully, Malfoy pulled away from her, looking into her face. His jaw jutted out, the lines between his brows deepened in his concentration. But his eyes, they were dark, foreboding, he looked almost dangerous.  The pressure of his hands on her softened, he was trying to distance himself, the thought made her chest pang.</p><p>He was holding her at arms length now, his hands gripping onto the crook of her elbows. He was staring at the floor, off to the side, refusing to meet her gaze. She couldn't let him leave, she couldn't let this end, she <em>needed</em> to feel this.</p><p>Her hand fell from his shirt and flew to her wand poking out from the waist band of her skirt. She didn't miss the wide eyed flash of fear in his icey eyes when she raised it to his neck. Before he could say anything, or move away, she drew an invisible line down the length of his torso. Malfoy was frozen, he stood unmoving in place as his shirt fell in pieces to the floor. She could see him fighting with himself, his fists clenching at his sides, his lips pursed in a hard line. He was losing the battle, but he would not move towards her.</p><p><em>Curious</em>. She thought playfully.</p><p>She closed the distance between them, running her hands up his hard and slender frame. He was exactly as she had imagined, lean and muscular. His skin almost translucent except for the four white scars running across his chest. When he still failed to react, she dug her nails in and ran them back down his torso, leaving her own pink claw marks in their wake.</p><p>This had the desired affect. His eyes flew up to hers, she thought she could see a coy smile tugging at his lips, but her attention was driven elsewhere when his hands hooked inside the collar of her shirt and tore it apart. He smothered her lips with his again while he tugged the remaining fabric out from her skirt and tossing it aside. His lips left hers and made their way down her jaw, to her neck, nipping at her skin.</p><p>She felt surges of electricity course through her veins, down to the pit of her stomach, making her jittery. But this is what she wanted. She needed to <em>feel</em>.</p><p>Looping her fingers through his belt loop, smiling to herself when she felt him suck in air as her cool fingers brushed against his skin, she pulled him with her as she backed herself against the desk.</p><p>Without his mouth ever leaving her skin, he grabbed her thighs and lifted her onto the desk, grabbing at her skirt and pushing it up her legs until he was pressed between them. He wound his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tangling it in his fist and tugged her head back, baring her neck to him.</p><p>When he moved his attention down to her breasts she couldn't hold back any longer and her fingers fumbled at his belt. She felt his muscles tense under her touch but he responded in kind by grazing his teeth over the top of her breast, his hand kneading the other through the sheer lace of her bra.</p><p>A squawk sounded at the window behind them.</p><p>Malfoy flinched, accidentally biting down on Hermione's skin, making her jerk out from under him. At first neither moved, nor did they dare to look at each other. She could barely hear his ragged breathing over the sound of her own pulse drumming in her ears. Dishevelled hair and half dressed, they each remained silent as they got their breathing under control.</p><p>Hermione was the first to move, when the owl at the window tapped it's beak on the glass impatiently, refusing to be ignored. Averting her gaze so as not to face what she had just done, she jumped from the desk, padding across the floor, pushing her skirt back down as she went, self-consciously running a hand over the back of her wild hair, knowing it had gotten ruffled during their rendezvous. </p><p>She took the letter from the owl, bracing against the freezing gust of wind as it burst through the open window, reminding her of how exposed she was. Malfoy had his shirt back on, though he left it to hang open. The marks she had left still clearly visible over the older ones. She blushed furiously, realising it must have hurt terribly, not that she had cared in the moment, all she had cared about was what she wanted.</p><p>Her eyes skimmed over the letter as she walked back to the table where Malfoy was now waving his wand over her own torn up shirt, holding it out for her silently. When she didn't take it from him, he finally looked up her, the concern in his eyes clear. He was still in no place to be hiding his emotions.</p><p>"What's wrong?" His voice was rough and coarse. "What's the letter say?" Her hands fell to her sides. A torrid of emotions flowing through her, she struggled to land on one. She was undeniably still ruffled and a little horny, standing there half naked while she ran her eyes over the half-dressed figure of Draco Malfoy, lazily slouching in his original chair wasn't helping matters either, especially when she caught his own gaze falling from her face to her barely concealed breasts.</p><p>She was also horrified, the contents of the letter was hardly good news. And yet, she couldn't help feeling a little smug. Terrible, of course, but her favourite sentences;<em> I told you so</em>, and <em>I was right</em>, kept dancing around her head. It made her giddy, giving her more confidence than sense as she flounced over to her partner, who continued to stare hungrily at her, while also appearing a little off-put of her rapidly changing moods.</p><p>"What is this, Granger?" He asked warily as she hovered over him. "What's going on?" She wanted to savour this moment before it was gone. And it would be soon.<em> Just a little bit more.</em></p><p>Slowly, she bent forward, bracing herself on the back of the chair as she straddled him, his hands immediately finding their way to her thighs, hoisting her skirt up again, then her waist, her breasts. He tensed as her weight shifted against his injured side, but he didn't stop. Instead he pulled her head down to his and she let him devour her again, moaning into her mouth. He needed this as much as she did.</p><p>She didn't want this to stop, but she had to, they had to get back to work. She'd just needed a little bit more, and Merlin, she wanted to keep going when she could feel his hardness pressed into her. But it was against her nature to ignore a puzzle dying to be solved. She wouldn't be able to focus her attentions on anything else until then.</p><p>She bit down on his lip before she pulled away, he looked pained at the sudden separation, but his own curiosity got the better of him.</p><p>"So, the letter?" He asked, his eyes dazed.</p><p>"I was right." She announced rather proudly.</p><p>"About?"</p><p>"McGonagall was poisoned." He went rigid, the hands supporting her back, dug into her skin. "Someone in this school tried to kill the Headmistress."</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Not wanting to waste any more time, the pair hurriedly dressed, careless of wrinkled clothing and mussed hair. As they made for the corridors Malfoy's hands reached out and snatched Hermione back, pulling her into him. She made a noise of protest that died on her tongue as the hands on her waist gathered the fabric of her skirt and yanked it around until she felt the cool steel of the zipper against her lower back. A furious blush rose to her cheeks then, what if someone had seen her like that? Her mind continued to spiral as Malfoy silently urged her to continue.<br/><em>What would they think? Godric, what if Harry found out? Would he fire her? </em></p><p>She forcefully shook the thoughts from her head as they pounded down the stone walkway. They were looking for Neville, well, she was. They hadn't said as much, but she was positive they were on the same page. They hadn't actually said anything out loud after she had read the contents of the letter, before disposing of it in the fire. Malfoy's mouth agape, they picked their torn clothes from the ground and dressed in silence.</p><p>She was dying to say something.</p><p>She was also dreading to say something.</p><p>News of the attempt on the Headmistresses life could not have come at a better time, in fact. Not only was occupying her mind so her thoughts wouldn't slip into dangerous territory, it had also stopped her from doing some reckless and foolish. Sleeping with Malfoy? Honestly.</p><p>But what if it hadn't stopped them, what would that have been like? Would she have liked it? Even with someone like Malfoy?</p><p><em>Yes</em>.</p><p>The confirmation left Hermione in a rather sour mood, content to remain in a simmering silence. It would have made little difference either way, as Malfoy seemed equally as overwhelmed by his own thoughts. They were saved from their torturous silence as they happened upon a young silver-haired girl in her pyjamas. Red faced and wide-eyed, with Neville stumbling behind her, still clutching his steaming mug and wincing every few steps as it sloshed over the side, scolding his skin.</p><p>"Neville?" Hermione heard her voice dance around them. "What's going on? What's wrong?" The circles under his eyes had deepened, a rich shade of violet settling in under his dark eyes. His brows seemed to be permanently knitted in a frown of concern these days.</p><p>"Oh, Hermione,"  he seemed to have forgotten she was in the castle, his eyes glanced at Malfoy before darting back to Hermione and continuing, "there's been an attack." They'd begun walking with him, and matched his pace as he intentionally slowed to let the frantic young girl create some distance between them. When she was far enough away he continued in a low voice. "<em>Another</em> attack." He looked meaningfully at Malfoy. A sense of foreboding stirred in the pit of Hermione's stomach.</p><p>
  <em>Was this their fault?</em>
</p><p>Hermione wasn't hanging back with Malfoy and Neville any longer, she jogged after the girl in the blue silk pyjamas, cursing intermittently as her ankle rolled in her shoes.</p><p>The girl disappeared through the door to the hospital wing, but when Hermione hobbled up, the passage was blocked. Madam Pomfrey loomed over her in the same centuries old nurse's uniform she'd always worn, her hands braced on either side of the archway.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but I specifically requested Professor Longbottom. I cannot allow you in here." Her voice was stern, but the worry in her eyes was clear. Still, she held firm, only letting one arm down to allow Neville to slip through. Without another word he disappeared into the room.</p><p>"Please Madam Pomfrey, can't you at least tell us what happened?" Her hand flew to her mouth as she covered her scandalised gasp.</p><p>"Certainly not, Miss Granger. And you know better than to ask." She harrumphed.</p><p>"Can you just tell us <em>who</em>, then?" Malfoy asked, not bothering to hide his impatience. She drew her arms across her chest and peered up at him with her cool grey stare.</p><p>"Absolutely not, Mister Malfoy. Now," she shooed the two of them out, one hand closing the door on them, "out with the both of you, I've wasted enough time as it is."</p><p>Moments after the Matron plummeted them into a determined silence, the fair haired girl stepped out, her head bowed, and pulled the door closed behind her. Without looking at either of them she made for a hasty exit. A pair of narrowed amber eyes followed. Malfoy kicked at Hermione's ankle, she tore her eyes from the young student to glare up at him only to find his eyes imploring her attention elsewhere. He was staring at the back of the girl as she slinked away, but when Hermione looked back he appeared overly invested in the state of his cuticles.</p><p>With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself away from the wall and caught up to the girl in a few short steps, saying nothing at first. She walked along side her, matching her stride for stride, wondering how long it would take her to acknowledge Hermione's presence. Finding it increasingly odd that she refused to even look at her. Hermione had all but forgotten the injured student and was now working herself up over the young witch, was she guilty? Did she have something to do with what happened? Why was she behaving so suspiciously? All the while her intense molten stare never left the witch next to her. </p><p>She stopped. Slamming her bare feet onto the cold floor. And stared defiantly up into Hermione's eyes.</p><p>She found familiarity in the beady, coal eyes. Something unsettled Hermione about the darkness of those eyes framed by a silver halo of platinum hair. It had been pulled away from her elf-like face in a loose pony tail the last time she'd seen it, now it cascaded down around her, luminescent in the dark.</p><p>"You're friends with Justin Deverill." It wasn't a question, she knew she was right. She didn't know how she had missed it earlier, the hair alone was impossible to ignore. The white haired witch crossed her arms over her chest, peering down her nose.</p><p>"He's my <em>boyfriend</em>." She sneered. Hermione bit down the fury rising in her throat. She ought to have been better at it by now, she'd had enough experience with Draco Malfoy after all.</p><p>"And you are?"</p><p>They held each other's eyes, silent, before she relented.</p><p>"Sylvia Moon." She huffed.</p><p>"And who was your friend that got attacked, Miss Moon? That was pretty heroic of you, getting them to Madam Pomfrey so fast." Sylvia's shoulders visibly relaxed, allowing the compliment to disarm her.</p><p>"Oh, that was just another friend of mine, Jasmine."</p><p>"And where did you find Jasmine?" Sylvia's head tilted to the side, her hair shimmering with every movement, and searched for her answer.</p><p>"I heard moaning, or whimpering." Her thin pale brows pulled down as she remembered the scene. "I didn't even notice she wasn't in her bed at first, I just followed the crying. When I came out into the common room, she was lying there on the rug in front of the fire." Sylvia screwed her eyes shut, but she continued speaking in a clear voice. "There was so much blood, she was covered in it, her hair was matted to her face, I still didn't know it was her." Sylvia whimpered as she recalled the gruesome image of her friend. When she opened her eyes, they were clear, piercing through Hermione. She could barely stand the intensity.</p><p>"Do you remember what her wounds looked like?" Hermione urged. "Did she say anything at all?" Sylvia was shaking her head as Hermione continued throwing desperate questions at her. "She didn't see who or <em>what</em> attacked her?" At this, Sylvia froze. Her eyes hardening, ripping through Hermione's half-hearted sincerity.</p><p>"I know what you're implying, and no. It wasn't Justin, he could never do that." Slowly, stoically, she turned from Hermione and sauntered away, her head held high. Hermione fought the whiplash she was getting from the girl's yo-yo emotions.</p><p>Swallowing her pride, she jogged after Sylvia, who had returned to pretending she hadn't noticed Hermione's presence.</p><p>"How can you be so sure? I had friends with the same, er, affliction." She winced at her own poor wording. "But even they had their struggles, it's just takes one night without the potion for things to go horribly wrong." The girl paused, seeming to take in the information, allowing Hermione a second to catch her breath again. She placed a light hand on the girl's shoulder and offered her a sympathetic smile.</p><p>"Believe me." Sylvia bit out, prying Hermione's hand from her shoulder and dropping it like she had sprouted a fungus. "Justin isn't capable of hurting anyone." When she stormed off this time Hermione didn't try to stop her, she knew she had had her last helpful conversation with the young steely witch.</p><p>Why had Malfoy sent Hermione after her? Surely he would have had a better chance getting through to her. They were scarily similar.</p><p> </p><p>Malfoy was no longer outside the hospital wing when Hermione returned minutes later, this hadn't shocked her. When she returned to her bed chambers, however, she was ashamed to admit to the pang in her chest to find it dark, her bed still neatly made, no blanket and pillow over the armchair, even her collection of books had been left neatly stacked at the foot of the bed. She also noted that she had one less cat in her room, Knightshade must have followed Malfoy back to his own room.</p><p><em>The traitor</em>. </p><p>For the first time in several days, Hermione was alone again. Having scratched a haphazard letter to Harry and sent it off with Arthur, she quickly changed into her pyjamas and climbed into her bed; the cold, crisp sheets almost burning her bare skin. Poppy nuzzled into her waist and she lay there, stroking patterns into the cat's fur while her mind wandered and sleep evaded her. Her body was exhausted, her muscles and joints aching. It had been a long day, the morning seemed so long ago. So much had happened in that one day, and yet...</p><p>And yet, she was no closer to solving the case. She had even more questions now, and to make it worse, there was a small part of her brain that wouldn't let go of her dalliance with Malfoy in the library.</p><p><b><em>Draco Malfoy</em></b>. Just his name, circled around her mind, over and over.</p><p>His face, his hands, the feel of those hands on her skin. His bare chest, the fresh pink scars running across his abdomen, her own nail marks branded into that pale skin. Merlin, his lips when they brushed against hers, she felt her stomach contract as she replayed the memory. His impenetrable cool grey eyes, they saw through her like she was naked even while fully dressed.</p><p>A shiver ran down her spine.</p><p>She flipped over, jostling Poppy in the process and earning a small meow of annoyance. Well, she could join the club. Hermione huffed, her mind still analysing the movements of her partner. How had it been so easy for him to push it out of his mind, to move out of the room they'd been sharing for days without a word? Not even a hastily scribbled note.</p><p><em>Was it that bad?</em> She shook her head, answering her own question. Of course not. She definitely remembered feeling his enjoyment. Hermione wasn't naïve, though, she knew that it could have just been a physiological response. Just his body reacting to hers, not his mind.</p><p>She tossed over again, this time more mindful not to disturb her sleeping companion. Though her mind never stilled.</p><p>He had definitely kissed her first. He had definitely participated in the undressing-</p><p>She cut the thought off there, before the cycle started again. If she kept losing her train of thought to those of a half-naked Draco Malfoy she'd never finish a thought again.</p><p>Perhaps he just regretted it, surely compared to the witches he was used to courting she stood no chance. That was just the plain, hard truth. Hermione had no problems with that, she had never fancied herself a great beauty in the first place, simply normal. She had also never held her esteem in correlation with her appearance, and she certainly wasn't going to start now, not for Draco-bloody-Malfoy of all people.</p><p>Hermione scolded herself. <em>You might as well still be a student here if you insist on behaving like a child.</em></p><p>She was better than this, she <em>had</em> survived for months on end in the middle of nowhere with every Death Dealer and Snatcher out there after her. She fought in a war, she'd endured torture under the Cruciatus Curse, at the hands of his own Aunt, no less.</p><p>With a self righteous nod, she put every silly thought of Draco Malfoy out of her mind and closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to immediately over take her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes flew open and she snapped up in her bed, complete disregard for her furry companion. Clicking her tongue, she jumped back out of bed, sliding into her slippers and wrapping herself in her robes, nearly tripping on them as she sneaked out the door and into the darkened corridor, lightened wand aloft.</p><p>As she tip toed down the path she had to repeatedly pull the hem of her robes from under her feet. Strange, she never recalled them being quite this long, but put it aside as her height difference without her heels.</p><p>She'd made it down to the first floor without incident, all the portraits were asleep and posed no risk of calling attention to her sneaky behaviour.</p><p>The hospital wing doors were in sight and strode with renewed purpose, only to be yanked to the side by the collar of her robes. A hand flew to her mouth and she looked up, outraged to find herself almost nose to nose with the very person she had just admonished herself for thinking about. A slender finger pressed against his pursed lips, as he motioned with his eyes back to the hall she had just been treading. Resigned to saving her verbal beating of him until a later time, she cautiously peered around the corner.</p><p>Madam Pomfrey was stood in the doorway to the hospital, speaking in hushed tones to Neville, his 'goodnight' floating down the hall.</p><p>"Merlin's pants." Hermione breathed to no one in particular, letting out a deep sigh of frustration. Malfoy said nothing, his attention had drifted from their predicament. He gathered the sleeve of Hermione's robes and was inspecting it, one eyebrow arched and a tiny smile he seemed to be fighting.</p><p>"Who knows how long we'll have to wait for Madam Pomfrey to fall asleep." It occurred to Hermione in that moment that she hadn't bothered to ask what Malfoy was doing down there, lurking in the shadows, she'd merely assumed he was after the same thing as her. A close up look at those wounds.</p><p><em>Justin's not capable. </em>She mocked Sylvia's statement, she was on a mission to prove it now. They were hiding something and she was going to be the one to expose her. Never mind if her so called partner didn't follow her same line of thinking -</p><p>"<em>What</em>. Are. You. Doing? Hermione growled through gritted teeth as Malfoy had started tugging on the sleeve of her robes, thoroughly distracting her from her monologue. The tiny smile he had been sporting earlier was a complete grin now.</p><p>"You're wearing my robes, Granger." He said, a glint of something flashing in his eyes. He looked dangerous, but not like any danger Hermione had ever encountered. And she had seen (and defeated) most.</p><p>"What?" She looked down at herself, the horror of his words creeping up her neck, reaching for her face, leaving her skin scorched. Under the combined light of their wands she could see the black robes she'd fumbled for in the dark were lined with the darkest green silk. Hermione's had been a practical and plain black, inside and out.</p><p>"Explains why you're skulking around like a dementor." He snickered to himself. Feigning great pain when she swotted him on the arm.</p><p>"Shut it, Malfoy." She fumed, turning her back on him, arms folded tightly across her chest. She pouted into the darkness. "I'd assumed you'd taken all of your belongings with you." He dropped her sleeve, still chuckling softly under his breath.</p><p>"Oh, so you <em>did</em> miss me?" He purred into her ear. She clenched her jaw, fighting the shiver that ran through her.</p><p>"Hardly." She sniffed.</p><p>"You can keep it, you know." He continued in her ear, ignoring her words. "That colour looks absolutely tantalising on your skin." Her brows furrowed in confusion, she looked down where he had rolled the sleeves up for her so the silk lay on the outside. "Almost scandalous." At this she couldn't refrain from rolling her eyes.</p><p>She thanked Merlin though, that were shrouded in darkness, so that no one would bear witness to the pleased smile tugging at her lips. </p><p>He said nothing else, but Hermione could feel that he was standing closer to her than before. His body heat radiating through her robes and thawing the chill in her bones. As pleasant as it was, she couldn't stand being that close. She was physically forcing herself to think about the case now, purely as a distraction.</p><p>"Come on." She whispered over her shoulder, careful to move into the open corridor in case he got the wrong idea. "Now's as good a time as any." She never looked back to see if he followed her, but she knew he had.</p><p>They successfully sneaked into the hospital wing, Hermione had no idea who this Jasmine was, but she looked over the few poor students who had found themselves in one of these beds until she found one wrapped like a mummy.</p><p>"This poor sod's got to be the one." Malfoy whispered. Jasmine appeared to be years younger than Sylvia, but for them to be roommates she knew they must be the same age. She looked drawn and pale, positively sickly. Mrs Weasley would have had a coronary at how scrawny and innocent she looked. Her tight black curls were fanned out on the pillow like a dark halo around her head. Her long lashes casting ghastly shadows over her cheeks.</p><p>Hermione could see, even with the blanket pulled up to her chin, that the gauze covered her entire torso, and she certainly wasn't going to unravel it just to confirm what she knew to be there. What she could see, were four ugly red, oozing scars, identical to Malfoy's, running from her cheek down her chin, her neck and disappearing under the blankets and gauze. The girl was undeniably a natural beauty, and now her face had been permanently disfigured.</p><p>A renewed hatred coursed through Hermione's veins, her hands clenched into fists so tight her nails had embedded half crescents into her skin. Even Malfoy seemed lost for words, though he did a better job of hiding his shock and fury. Instead, he reached a tentative hand out, she could see it hovering out of the corner of her eye, and came to rest on her shoulder. His hand was stiff and light, refusing to relax against her. Hermione couldn't blame him, she imagined this was going against every fibre of his being. If you had told her eight years ago that she would be back at the castle, working with not her two best friends but Draco Malfoy, and they would share any kind of intimacy, she would have sent you off St Mungos, just like that.</p><p>His hand did soften, eventually, and though the act itself did little to actually comfort her it was the knowledge that he was at least trying. The knowledge he actually cared. It meant something to her, that he knew how to speak to her silently.</p>
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